


Stabilize

by ABrighterDarkness



Series: OYL Bingo [14]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Caretaking, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, Morning After, Mutual Pining, Sam Wilson Feels, Self-Denial, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Subdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23746180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: Luck was on their side that much of their Hydra-Hunting was road time and recon.  Which meant that Steve had more time to level out before heading into an assault that would send his hormone levels into disarray. It didn’t happen with every strike they ran, Steve dropping like this.  Sam was even relieved to say it didn’t happen with most of them. But still far too frequently than he was remotely comfortable with.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: OYL Bingo [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567447
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41
Collections: On Your Left - SamSteve Bingo





	Stabilize

**Author's Note:**

> Written for On Your Left Bingo square "Dom/Sub Relationship"
> 
> I struggled for _weeks_ getting this one together so please be kind :) . Here's to hoping that time spent paid off!

Sam bounced absently to the unknown beat in his head as he slid the plain metal key into the lock of the cheap motel room door. He wasn't sure what song it might belong to but it was catchy enough not to matter. The motel room was nothing remotely fancy but it did what he and Steve needed it to do, acting as their base of operations for the past few days while they followed the most recent HYDRA lead. 

The first few days had been little more than recon, getting eyes on their target and seeing how reality lined up with their intel. It had been a couple long, pretty damn boring days if Sam was honest. The only real highlight had been the quiet teasing and banter that he and Steve exchanged periodically over the comms while they maintained their respective positions. Though, if Sam was honest, that was  _ always _ the highlight, even above knocking another hit to Hydra. Had they been in the position where they had to keep radio silence the entire time, he wasn’t sure whether he or Steve would have been the first to lose patience and give into impulsiveness. As it was, Sam was fairly certain that the only reason why they had put so much time on it as they had was because he was there. If it had been Steve alone on the operation, Steve likely would have gone in swinging on day one.

Just that morning, though, their intel and (semi-)patient recon paid off. Before the sun had even risen, he and Steve had hit the outpost hard and fast. The time they put into checking it all out had paid off and they were able to take advantage of the surprise strike to eliminate the outpost with only minimal scrapes and bruises of their own.

Sam could admit that he was still buzzing more than a little bit, flying high on the success of the mission. He could feel it thrumming through his veins. Probably had something to do with the beat playing through his mind and his inability not to bounce pleasantly along with it.

As soon as he turned the knob on the door and pushed it open, that high flying feeling evaporated almost instantaneously putting Sam instinctively on high alert. He silently set the plastic bag from the nearby convenience store onto the floor and crept into the room as quietly as he could. He automatically scanned the small room, looking for whatever had set his instincts on edge. It belatedly dawned on him that the main part of the motel room was empty of the one other person that  _ should _ be there. 

Steve. 

Suddenly, Sam knew exactly what was going on, exactly what had set his instincts flaring hot and bright. 

Tension coiled thickly through him as he took cautious footsteps to the only door the small motel room had to offer and froze. At first he couldn’t hear anything, not a sound that would indicate something amiss, nothing that would explain or confirm his reaction. But he knew better now, after so many long months following Steve on mission after mission, to dismiss what his mind was telling him out of hand.

And then...he frowned slightly, brows furrowed in concentration until the silence gave way to quiet, hitched breathing, as though the person on the other side of the door was doing their best not to be heard. Sam exhaled slowly, attempting to will away some of the tension radiating through him and raised a hand to rap against the bathroom door. “Steve?” he called. No answer and the quiet breathing had gone near silent once again. 

“Steve,” he said again, speaking more firmly. “I need an answer, man, or I’m coming in.”

Nothing. Sam drew another slow, grounding breath before reaching for the knob and turning, pushing the door open and stepping inside. He drew to an immediate stop as his eyes took in the scene in front of him. 

Steve was sitting on the bathroom floor, knees bent and arms wrapped tightly around them, back against the tub and his forehead resting against his knees. He had managed to get out of his tac gear before he dropped but still dressed in the compression shirt and briefs that he favored wearing underneath. It seemed to be a struggle for the man to find the ability to raise his head, lift his own eyes, dazed and glassy, until they finally met Sam’s. It was only then that Sam could see the evidence of his trembling, having to regain his hold on his knees every few seconds with the intensity of it.

Moving carefully but steadily forward, Sam approached and crouched down on the floor in front of Steve. Before he had hit the road Hydra-hunting with Steve, it had been a long time since Sam had handled a drop like this, not since...Sam automatically shook off that train of thought, knowing that he had to be present in the here and now in order to help however much or little Steve would allow. It had become unfortunately more commonplace since then and Sam knew that stubborn pride was partially to blame alongside decades old stigma surrounding the idea of strong men--or women--who also happened to be biologically subs. 

From what he had understood, it had been something of a battle between Steve and Natasha after they appeared at his doorstep, battered, filthy, and scared, to allow her to help him stabilize. Sam hadn’t known the man well enough to offer assistance at that point, all he could comfortably do was offer his spare room and keep himself otherwise occupied.

It had taken both Natasha and Sam’s assistance to get Steve back on his feet following Insight and Barnes’ return from the dead.

Luck was on their side that much of their Hydra-Hunting was road time and recon. Which meant that Steve had more time to level out before heading into an assault that would send his hormone levels into disarray. It didn’t happen with every strike they ran, Steve dropping like this. Sam was even relieved to say it didn’t happen with  _ most _ of them. But still far too frequently than he was remotely comfortable with.

Some of the drops were expected, the days when their mission brought one of them entirely too close to serious injury for comfort. Sam had quickly learned to be prepared to pull himself together enough to take care of Steve in the aftermath of those days. But some days, it seemed to just be a matter of the adrenaline just wearing off just the wrong way. This was the second category and the result was currently sitting in front of Sam on the bathroom floor of the cheap motel room.

It would be a lot easier on both of them, with fewer drops, if Sam had been able to take the time to properly articulate the need for care frequently enough to keep Steve stable where his system wouldn’t  _ need _ to drop so often. But Steve didn’t talk about those things. Sam had to respect that, no matter how much he hated it.

He lifted his hand slowly, telegraphing his movements as clearly as he could until he could slip his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, gripping gently. Steve’s eyes fell closed at the careful contact, exhaling shakily. 

“Steve,” he said and waited as Steve reopened his eyes and fought to focus on Sam’s face. Only when he was sure that he had his attention did Sam continue. “You’re alright. I got you. Do you want me to call Natasha?”

Steve swallowed thickly and his brow furrowed as he attempted to focus on speaking. Sam tightened his hold on the back of his neck slightly, “A nod or a shake of your head’s fine, Steve.”

Slowly, Steve shook his head in the negative. Sam bit back a sigh as his mind considered his options but he knew there was only one that his own instincts would allow him to entertain unless he was told otherwise. He  _ would  _ be able to leave Steve in Natasha’s capable hands like this if that had been what Steve wanted or needed. But Sam was honest enough with himself to know that he really hadn’t wanted to. It made his chest ache in a way that he knew went far beyond basic protective instincts, the part that was quietly thrilled that Steve hadn't wanted him to call Natasha in. Though Sam had made it a habit by that point to always provide the option if he could.

“Do you want me to help you?” Sam asked just as carefully.

Steve stared blankly at him for a long moment and then dipped his head slowly. 

“Okay, I got you,” Sam agreed and then made a careful point to lay out the plan that was rapidly forming in his mind. While having Steve drop after ops definitely wasn’t something Sam enjoyed or looked forward to, he had gotten fairly good at getting creative on the fly. Considering that Steve was so reluctant to address it once he was in a more level headspace, Sam also made his own personal boundaries reflect that. “When I’m done talking, we’re gonna get you up off the floor and get you seated just right here on the toilet. I’m going to have let go of you for just a minute. I’m just going to fill the sink and grab one of those washcloths and some soap, I won’t be leaving the room. And then I’m going to get some of that grime off of you. At no point will I be undressing you, do you understand?”

He paused until Steve gave another slow nod, his eyes fixated as intently as he was able. “Good,” he said gently and Steve pressed the back of his neck more firmly into Sam’s hold. “When I have you cleaned up we’re going to go back out to the main room. Once we’re there, I’ll lay out the rest. Right now though, let’s get you off this floor.”

Sam rose to a crouch, pulling one of Steve’s heavy arms across his shoulders and slowly helping him to his feet. The bathroom was small, cramped even when it was just one of them in there. With two large men in the space, it was especially so and took a bit of careful maneuvering to get Steve into a position where he could safely sit. Once Sam got him settled, he shifted Steve’s arm off of his shoulders and ran his fingers through grimy blonde hair in order to maintain touch for just a few extra moments.

“I’m moving my hand now,” Sam said and withdrew his hand carefully. As soon as he broke the contact, Sam set into motion the plan that he had carefully articulated to Steve He turned both handles of the sink and let it run while he opened the bar of soap and set it on the small counter. After a quick glance to make sure that Steve wasn’t tipping or on the verge of falling, Sam snagged the washcloth off of the shelf just above Steve’s head, frowning slightly at the coarseness of the material. Sam forced down his frustration at having nothing softer, sometimes he just had to make do with what he had and this was unfortunately one of those times. His mind absently catalogued the contents of his go-bag to see if there was anything he might be able to get away with leaving behind to make room for better supplies.

A quick test told him that the water was comfortably warm and pulled the drain stopper before wetting the cloth and gave a few swipes with the soap. Sam took a slow breath in and out again to steady his own mind, to settle himself into the mindspace that he had adapted to when Steve needed it from him. Steve might not actually be his but for the time being, he was Sam’s to care for. Once he felt confident in his control, shifted to stand just in front of Steve’s slumped form close enough that Sam’s pant leg brushed against Steve’s bare knee. 

He had learned early on the sort of care that Steve needed during these sort of times. The man had so much violence and pain in his regular day to day. It was lucky for both of them that Steve’s needs lined up almost seamlessly with Sam’s natural preferences. Sam had quickly adopted the routine of gentle clean up whether Steve actually needed it or not. He kept his voice low and soothing and his hands gentle. Gripping Steve’s chin in one hand, tilting his head back until Sam could see what he was doing, and used the washcloth to clean away the grime as best he could, murmuring quiet praise and reassurances as he went. Sam had to refresh the water in the sink three times before he managed to tend to all the skin left visible by Steve’s shorts and shirt. 

He carelessly tossed the rag back into the sink, ignoring the splash and keeping his attention on the man in front of him. At some point in his tending, Sam had inched forward, standing between Steve’s knees. Now that he no longer held his chin in hand, Steve’s head sunk forward against Sam’s stomach with a soft sigh. Sam stroked through his hair, letting one hand grip the back of his neck, holding Steve in place while the other ran soothing sweeps over his shoulders and upper back. 

After a long moment, far longer than Sam truly should have indulged, that’s not why he was here and definitely not what Steve would have actually wanted if he were in his right mind, he pulled back. He crouched down until they were eye level, unable to prevent his fond smile at the considerably softer look on the man’s face. “Are you with me, Steve?”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then nodded.

“No, I need your words, Steve,” Sam corrected gently. “Need you to tell me how you’re doing so I know how to help.” He forced down a sigh when Steve stared at him for a moment and then nodded once again. It wouldn’t be the first time that Steve had fallen into an inability to speak and each time it happened, Sam felt the pang of guilt for letting Steve freefall into a drop. Even choosing not to do anything, not to force the conversation, was a choice in the end and the choice that Sam kept making. It was Sam’s responsibility to make sure that he didn’t have to suffer for Sam’s choices longer than he absolutely had to.

“Alright,” Sam said quietly. “We’ll work up to talking. Let’s get you up, huh?” He pushed back to his feet, shifting Steve’s arm over his shoulders as he went. “There we go.”

Sam carefully led Steve out of the small bathroom to the main room and over to the cheap table and chair that was settled under the single large window. He shifted his grip and a firm but gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder was all the direction needed for Steve to drop to his knees. Sam walked around and crouched in front of him. The hand on Steve’s shoulder shifted to up the side of his neck.

“Steve, I need you to show or tell me your sign to stop,” Sam said carefully, watching Steve’s hands. His fingers tapped solidly three times against his thigh and Sam nodded. “Good, thank you. And for keep going?” Two taps. “Good.”

Sam shifted his balance slightly and took a moment to consider his words and his options. The first few times that he had taken care of Steve through a drop, Sam had stumbled through cluelessly, unsure of what he could and couldn’t do. What would help and what would make things worse. It was a game of trail and error, something that Sam  _ hated. _ It wasn’t a  _ game. _ Thankfully, they found their stride after the third drop when Sam, desperate for  _ something _ to work well for them, carefully bound Steve’s wrists and arms. He hadn’t been sure if it was something that would work or if it would--like the limited success of his other attempts--set them back to square one. Thankfully, it had worked and Sam had come to lean more heavily on the practice. 

He couldn’t deny that the art of the knots helped to level himself as well as Steve. 

“Okay,” Sam started quietly. “You’re going to stay put here for just a minute while I go to our bags. I’m not going to do fancy ties today, don’t think that’s what we need. I’m just going to do quick and simple and let you settle in. Then I’m gonna grab the food I picked up while I was out and I’m going to give you food and I’m going to make sure you’ve got plenty to drink. Once I’m happy that you’re in better space, we’re gonna get into that bed right there and I’m going to hold you. In the morning, we’ll see how you feel. How does that sound? Once for yes, twice for no.”

Sam watched carefully as Steve slowly tapped once against his thighs. The hesitation concerned him and he frowned. “Do you need your hands free today?” He asked gently. Usually, Steve only felt the need to have his hands free when it had been a near-miss type of mission. Steve slowly shook his head in the negative and tapped twice. 

“Okay,” Sam said gently. He held himself back from pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead and forced himself to feel satisfied with the gentle brush through his hair. “Okay. Stay here, you can follow me visually if you need to. Not leavin’ the room though.

He quickly got to his feet and dug into his go bag. With being on the road constantly, there wasn’t much that they could responsibly bring with them. Both of them were basically living out of duffle bags for the duration. But as soon as he managed to learn that being bound seemed to help, Sam had indulged. Steve deserved better than the paracord from Sam’s kit that he had used the first time simply due to lack of options. He rooted around in the bag until his fingers found the carefully bundled deep blue rope that had settled at the bottom. 

As he had told Steve, he diverted back the door, snatching up the bags that he had dropped there when he had first returned. He quickly unloaded the bag onto the table, opening packages and water bottles preemptively so that they would be ready with little fuss once they were ready for them. 

Then rope in hand, Sam moved back until he could crouch behind Steve's kneeling form. He dropped the rope into his lap and ran his hands up and down Steve's arms from shoulder joint to fingertips, up and back again. Then he gently guided his arms behind his back, urging his hands into place holding onto the opposite elbow. Satisfied with the positioning, Sam returned to the rope and carefully doubled it and set to work with the knots, mindfully checking the tightness as he went. The rope wasn't strong enough to withstand Steve's strength, he knew that and hadn't intended it to be. Steve could always get away if he wanted or needed, but it was enough to hold him. Enough to ease him into steadiness and just enough for Sam to give what was needed. Which, frankly, was simply touch and care enough to provide some peace and someone to lean on.

And so, Sam settled as comfortably as he could in the stiff, lightly cushioned chair beside the slightly wobbly table supplied by the motel. The television was on but the volume kept low, more for background white noise than for anything else. He took a slow breath as Steve settled on his knees in front of him and then shuffled forward until he was settled, knees between Sam’s feet and broad shoulders bracketed by his knees. Steve rested his head against Sam’s thigh and Sam let his fingers comb gently through his hair for a moment. 

Sam gently tapped his chin indicatively and when Steve’s head came up, Sam brought one of the water bottles down to him. He tipped it and held it steady, the fingertips of his hand at Steve’s jaw stroking lightly over the skin. He put the bottle aside to pick through the food he had gotten and they slowly worked through until there was little left on the table but empty bottles and wrappers. Sam stared for a moment, mind and body coiling and aching again with want for the man in front of him before swallowing thickly and forcing aside the unhelpful thoughts and feelings.

He released the light hold on Steve’s jaw, brushing fingertips over his cheek but letting him drop his face back against his thigh. Steve sighed softly and closed his eyes when Sam’s fingers returned to stroking through his hair. Sam had to bite back a groan when Steve nuzzled softly into his lap as he arched into the petting. His fingers tightened in Steve’s hair, drawing the movement to a stop. When he was sure that Steve had stilled, his grip eased again and he immediately resumed the gentle strokes. 

It wasn’t that Sam didn’t  _ want _ it. 

God knew he did. 

Having Steve under his hands, under his care, like this? Hell yes Sam wanted it and everything that went with it. There was a part of him, he knew, that had been thinking of Steve as  _ his _ for far longer than was appropriate. He supposed that the presumption could be considered forgivable considering that Steve’s care when he was like this had fallen almost strictly into Sam’s hands since they had been on the road together. The want and the possessiveness that he tried his damnedest to ignore seemed to claw deeper the longer they stayed in such close quarters, relying on and leaning on each other day in and day out. The grip tightened each time he was allowed these fleeting moments.

But he was almost positive that fleeting was all they would ever be. Because Steve didn’t talk about any of it when he was in his right mind. Not about his drops. Rarely about what he did or didn’t want, that he hadn’t locked the bathroom door earlier, had been on par with Steve Rogers’ preferred methods of communication. And not once had Sam heard him even passingly mention interest in a relationship of any sort whether it be sexual or romantic in nature. 

And Sam wasn’t the sort of man that was going to use his position as Dom, as  _ caretaker, _ to take advantage. To take, or let things go further than what little Steve had given consent to. Because in the vulnerable state Sam found him in earlier, even Steve Rogers was susceptible to being hurt, serum or no serum. 

Sam bit back a sigh and shoved the train of thought to the side. It wouldn’t help either of them to let himself get sucked into those types of distracting thoughts. Right now, he was here for Steve, to get him back on his feet and that was it. Tomorrow they would go back to pretending that this shit never happened and that everything was just peachy. Sam didn’t have to like it but he did have to respect it. Sam’s wants and neediness had no place in the current scenario. He was drawn more thoroughly from his thoughts at another nuzzle against his inner thigh, just a few inches higher than the previous. 

Sam sighed in silent frustration, forcefully keeping the reaction within the confines of his own mind. Last thing Steve needed was to be thinking that Sam was upset with him.  _ That _ was seriously not helping though. His fingers tightened again and he had to remind himself to ignore the arousal that had been taunting him since the first bite of food that had Steve’s lips around his fingers. He silently repeated the reminder when he looked down to see Steve kneeling between his knees and his mouth so, so very close to where, in any other scenario, Sam would  _ love _ to have it. “Steve,” he warned firmly. “That’s not what we’re here for.”

Steve whined pitifully, a sound Sam only ever heard from the man when he was in this state, and tilted his head up just enough that Sam could see his face clearly, slight pout included. “Please?” Steve managed.

“Ask me again tomorrow, Steve,” Sam said evenly, knowing from experience that the question would never actually come. “Until then, I think it’s time to move on to the next piece. Up onto the bed.”

Steve huffed, the small noise sounding more like his usual self than anything had up to that point, but obediently shuffled across the few feet of rough carpet. Though, not before pointedly stealing another nuzzle against Sam’s thigh. Sam didn’t allow himself to react beyond the automatic sharp inhale that he couldn’t seem to stop and stood from the chair, stretching briefly to work out the stiffness that the uncomfortable chair had left behind. He waited at the edge of the bed until Steve had climbed up and settled onto his side. 

He rested his hand gently but firmly on Steve’s shoulder and swept down until his fingers curled around his bound wrists and held steady for a long moment. When Steve sighed and the remaining tension began to leach from his muscles, Sam lightened his hold and sat beside him and carefully began working on untying the knots. Sam set aside the rope and gently worked his hands over Steve’s, from shoulder to fingertips. 

Sam quickly coiled the rope with practiced ease and set the bunch on the side table with a mental note to remember to put them back in his bag come morning. Steve rolled onto his opposite side, facing him expectantly as Sam settled onto the bed beside him, pausing long enough to kick his shoes off over the side. He rolled his head against the pillow to look over at where Steve was watching him intently, waiting patiently for the next instruction.

“Come here,” Sam encouraged softly, raising his arm and tucking it behind his head to leave his side open if Steve still wanted the closer contact.

Steve quickly shifted across the few inches between them, pressing flush against Sam’s side with his head coming to rest against Sam’s chest. Sam lowered his arm again, curling it around Steve’s back and rubbing soothingly. He knew that skin to skin contact was generally considered better but he also knew that this would do. Contact was contact and he wasn’t about to break his word. Aside from helping him out of the stiff material of his uniform, Sam hadn’t crossed that particular line. Steve was always  _ at least _ left in his t-shirt and shorts and Sam always stayed dressed. 

As Steve’s breathing slowed and his weight sank more heavily into him, Sam let his mind wander down the road he usually avoided. He allowed himself a few moments to wish and to wonder what it might look like, how this might be different if Sam was able to be there for Steve for more than just his drops. If he didn’t have to hold back the words and affections that always lingered right at the back of his mind, waiting for the chance to be used. Sam sighed and tightened his arm around Steve drawing a soft, sleepy sound from the man. Sam smiled and let himself relax, let himself find similar comfort in the contact that Steve was. 

Sam wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, not entirely sure it mattered either, but woke feeling exceptionally warm. It was a somewhat familiar feeling, by that point, and his mind immediately caught up, remembering the day before and Steve’s drop. Blinking his eyes open, he frowned slightly in concern to where Steve’s back was pressed firmly against his chest. His arm was still draped over Steve’s side and could feel Steve’s fingers laced through his own, pressed against his sternum. 

He was a little surprised that Steve was still there. More often than not, Steve was up and gone before Sam came around and back to being stubbornly silent about check ins and his state of mind. Usually the only times that Sam woke up with Steve still next to him was when it had been a very bad, very deep drop. Yesterday had been rough, sure, but it hadn’t been one that he would have categorized as a deep drop. 

What was even more surprising and peculiar was that Sam could tell that Steve was already awake. And yet he was still there.

“You alright?” Sam asked quietly. He didn’t tense, didn’t withdraw either his hand or his arm or the press of his body against Steve’s back. If Steve needed it--or even, if he was honest,  _ wanted _ it--then Sam wasn’t about to take that from him. Steve nodded silently but his fingers tightened their grip around Sam’s.

“Okay,” Sam conceded easily. “You wanna stay like this a bit, Steve?” Steve nodded again though more hesitantly. 

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Sam agreed, letting his thumb stroke gentle sweeps over the side of Steve’s hand soothingly. Sam curled tighter against Steve’s back, knees pressing into the backs of Steve’s until they were pressed fully from chest to feet, knowing the contact and a trusted presence could help but was so very rarely allowed the opportunity to provide it. 

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, Steve?” He asked quietly against the back of his neck, arm tightening automatically at the small shiver that resulted.

Steve was silent long enough that Sam was almost certain that the question was going to go unanswered. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“Is it always going to be like what?” Sam asked, frowning in confusion.

Steve was silent for a stretch again and then sighed, “This. Just when I drop?”

It was Sam’s turn to fall silent. After a moment, he squeezed Steve’s hand, “Steve, can you turn over and look at me? Please?” Steve hesitated but released his hold on Sam’s hand, turning over until they were face to face though keeping his eyes carefully averted. Sam let Steve tangle their legs to maintain as much contact as possible and shifted his arm, carefully not withdrawing but letting his hand rub firm strokes over Steve’s side comfortingly. “What did you mean by that, Steve?”

“I just…” Steve paused and then his shoulders slumped. “You’re there when I drop and you--you sometimes  _ act _ like I’m yours between drops but...then you don’t? If-if you don’t, I get it, really...It’s not fair of me, I know but I just thought--”

“Steve,” Sam interrupted softly, moving his hand from Steve’s side to nudge at his chin. Wary and reluctant, Steve met his eye and Sam sighed with a sad smile. “Deep breaths for me, okay? Then I think you and I need to have a chat because it seems to me like we’ve got a whole web of misunderstandings here that we need to untangle.”

Steve nodded and let his eyes close, focusing on slowing his breathing. Sam mindfully slowed and deepened his own for Steve to imitate. “Good,” Sam said quietly. “Do you want to sit up while we talk or stay like this? It’s up to you.”

“Like this?” Steve requested.

Sam nodded and rested his hand back against Steve’s side, thumb stroking over the line of his ribs, “First question. How are you feeling right now? Where’s your head at?”

“I’m okay,” Steve shrugged. “I’m here. I don’t feel...hazy or anything.”

“Good,” Sam nodded and pressed further. “And you’ll let me know if that changes?” Steve nodded. ”I mean it, Steve. Now's not a time for being stubborn.”

”I know, I'll tell you if anything changes, ” Steve agreed, rolling his eyes slightly.

”Good, thank you, ” Sam said quietly. ”Now, let's step back a minute. You asked if it was always going to be like this. I need to know what you mean by that. Go slow if you need to but can you explain that some?”

Steve was silent as he worked through his words, brow furrowed in thought. ”When...When I get like yesterday you're happy? To touch me. To help. Bringing me down and then back again. You’re so  _ good _ to me and it’s nice? Really nice. But then when I'm not--not like that, you still act kinda like I'm yours. But you don't touch me, not really. And...I guess maybe I just wanted to know if that’s just...how you do things? It’s-It’s okay. If it is. I can deal with that.”

Sam was stunned wordless for a moment as the rambling words settled into his mind. He wasn't sure how he screwed this up so badly. How he managed to wind up with so many misunderstandings. No. No, that was a lie. Sam suddenly realized  _ exactly _ how they’d gotten to this point of confusion that was so clearly hurting Steve more than Sam would ever want cause. All because he never pressed that conversation that he  _ knew _ they needed to have. He’d thought he was respecting Steve’s decision to leave it lay. He was hit with the realization that he really ought to have known better. What he  _ did _ know though was that he had to fix it and fix it  _ now. _

“Steve,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly in a vain attempt to settle his thoughts. “That’s what I thought  _ you _ wanted. Outside of accepting help during a drop, it’s been kinda like...conversation about it was unwelcome. So I stayed back. I didn’t think it was my place to assume that you wanted anything more. I’ve tried asking if you needed anything, if you  _ wanted _ help in anything more and you kinda went cold on us.”

Steve was frowning deeply in confusion when he finally met Sam’s eyes, “I thought…”

“You thought what?” Sam prompted gently.

“I don’t know,” Steve said quietly. “I just thought that it was already sorted out. You kinda started acting like I was already yours. But then you keep asking if I want Natasha. It’s...confusing.”

“Steve, I’m not going to try and claim you while you’re in a drop,” Sam said bluntly. “I’m sure as hell not gonna do it without your consent. I’m not a mindreader and I’m not the sort to assume. What you want is always relevant.”

Steve’s confusion only seemed to deepen at that. “But you were already acting like I was yours,” he repeated, tone growing slightly frustrated. Steve sighed and shifted to bring a hand up through his hair, cringing a bit at the feel. 

Sam paused a moment to consider what Steve was saying, knowing from the repetition that he was missing something important. He could admit, looking back, that his behavior toward Steve had perhaps gone a bit past a casual friendship that helped one another out. He had leaned heavily on the excuse that he had to make up for Steve’s innate recklessness and had jumped headfirst in making sure that he was taken care of. Gone above what he would do for just about anyone else in an attempt to prevent the drops that had become painfully regular. Everything he could aside from taking Steve down on even a semi-regular basis. 

“I have been, you’re right,” Sam conceded. “In my head, I’ve thought that way for months.” He paused and winced slightly adding as gently as he could, “But you’re not, Steve.”

Steve’s body tensed against his own and he jerked his head back, “But…”

“Because...and I need you to listen to me on this, Steve,” Sam interrupted. “You’re  _ not _ mine because that’s not something that I’m gonna just go on and assume. That’s not a choice that I get to make for you, take away from you. That’s something that I’m gonna expect you to talk to me about and you ought to expect me to talk to you about.”

Sam sighed and lifted his hand from Steve’s side to brace against his jaw, “I can honestly say that I don’t know exactly how things like this worked when you were growing up but I can tell you how things are now. I can tell you how  _ I _ run things. I’m not  _ ever _ going to assume that I’ve got that sort of right to go and make that kind of decision for you. Don’t mistake me, I want you and I want you to be mine. Not just during your drops but all the time. But I’m not just going to back you into a corner and not give you the choice.”

“I don’t get that choice,” Steve said in confusion. “That's not...that’s not how it works.”

“It does with me,” Sam asserted firmly, unwilling to tiptoe any further about the issue. “If you’re mine then I’m yours, Steve. It goes both ways. The  _ choice _ goes both ways.”

“Is that why…” Steve frowned slightly again. “Is that why you always refuse anything while I’m under? Why you always ask if I want Nat?”

“Yes,” Sam confirmed. “And why I check in with you as often as I do and why I lay out exactly what my plan is. You’re your own person but when you’re that far down, the way you get when you drop…I’d be taking advantage at that point. Especially since you haven’t really given any indication that you want anything more than help through them. And I needed you to know that I wasn’t your only option.”

“But you already thought of me as yours?” Steve asked.

Sam shrugged slightly, “At that point, my thoughts on it really didn’t matter too much. If you’d wanted Natasha to help you through, I’d have been on the phone getting her here as soon as possible for you. Whatever you needed.”

“I wanted that, though,” Steve said quietly.

“Wanted Nat?” Sam asked carefully, dread beginning to coil at the thought of having stepped so far overbounds.

“No! No,” Steve answered quickly, his hand rushing forward to grip onto Sam’s shirt. “No, I meant...that I wanted the way you are with me when I’m down. It’s just.--” Steve sighed and shrugged. “It just...wasn’t something really talked about? Even my ma didn’t really go into much. She was smart enough to know the odds were against me, I think. With my illnesses and everything, no one really thought I’d live long enough to have to worry about it. But she always said that a good Dom would take care of me without me really realizing that it was happening until after the fact. She might as well have been describing you.”

“I won’t let you go drop to drop,” Sam warned, needing to have that particular expectation out in the open before the conversation went any further.. “It’s not good or healthy for either of us.”

“I...never wanted to go drop to drop,” Steve admitted. “I just didn’t really know how to bring it up without being...I don’t know, needy? Even when you tried to ask I couldn’t.”

“Be as needy as you want,” Sam assured. “I don’t mind that at all. I’d rather you be needy and taken care of than dropping after every Op because I’m not doing right by you.”

“It wasn’t  _ every _ Op,” Steve protested.

“Close enough,” Sam scoffed, relieved to hear some of Steve’s usual fire in the words. He brushed his thumb lightly over Steve’s jaw consideringly. “Is that what you want?”

“To be yours?” Steve asked for clarification, Sam didn’t answer but he didn’t have to. They both knew what the question was and Steve continued a brief moment later. “Kinda thought that I already was.”

“Then you got me,” Sam said easily.

“What sort of things did you mean we’d need to talk about?” Steve asked, remaining tension seemingly evaporating as he settled in onto the bed more comfortably.

“What you want, in general and from me specifically,” Sam answered. “Rules, expectations, and so on.”

“Rules?” Steve repeated and Sam was more gratified to hear the challenge in his tone than he would currently admit. That went further to reassuring him that Steve was actually okay than words alone could.

“Yes,  _ rules, _ ” Sam smirked. “Rules we agree on for how this works. How we work. Hardlines that we don’t push. Not a red flag to go charging after.”

“I’m not very good at rules,” Steve grinned.

“You are when you want to be,” Sam countered. “And believe me, darlin’, when we set our rules, you’ll want to be.”

“Why’s that?” Steve challenged.

“Because I tend to reward good behavior,” Sam grinned.

“And if it’s not good behavior?”

“We’ll come up with something,” Sam shrugged.

“You use ‘we’ a lot,” Steve pointed out.

“That’s ‘cause it’s always going to be a we,” Sam said firmly. “You’re always going to have a say. I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry there but you’re always gonna have a say.”

“Why are you gentle with me?” Steve asked randomly. “I can take harder, even when I’m dropped.”

“‘Cause that’s not what you need, especially not during a drop,” Sam answered.

“What is it I need, then?” Steve smirked.

“You need the soft touch,” Sam answered with a smirk of his own. He brought his hand up to run softly through Steve’s hair, smirk softening to a smile when his eyes fell closed at the touch. “Not to say I can’t or won’t mix it up sometimes, ‘cause that’s not all you need. But you need someone to be sweet with you. To care about Steve Rogers and look out for him beyond what a mission requires.”

“Is that a rule?” Steve asked.

“More like a guideline,” Sam quipped.

“I got that reference,” Steve grinned. 

“Good, otherwise our day was about to be dedicated to Pirates,” Sam laughed. “How’re you feeling with this so far?”

“Good,” Steve answered immediately. 

“That was fast,” Sam said pointedly. “What’s going through that head of yours? And that’s actually our first rule, Steve, if we can’t be honest, especially about this, then this ain’t happening. I don’t need to know every little thought that goes through your pretty head but when it comes to what’s bothering you or what’s affecting you? What you do and don’t like? That’s the stuff you gotta be able to talk to me about.”

“That goes both ways, too?” Steve asked.

“Yep,” Sam agreed easily. “You need to know that you can trust me. That you can rely on me. And I know that about you, pretty sure at this point we all know that about you, sweetheart.”

Steve rolled his eyes but there was a fondness to it that stood out and Sam tilted his head in question. Steve just shook his head and smiled, “Don’t think you gotta work so hard for my trust, Sam. You’ve already got it.”

“And I’m gonna make sure that I keep it,” Sam assured him. “Now answer the question.”

“I think I’m still thrown a bit that we’ve been operating under two very different understandings,” Steve shrugged. 

“That’s why honest conversation is the first rule. I don’t want another misunderstanding like this,” Sam agreed. “What else?”

“You said a lot about how you don’t do things but you haven’t said how you do,” Steve pointed out.

“How much do you remember from your drops?” Sam asked.

“All of it,” Steve frowned. “At least I think it’s all of it.”

“That’s about how I do things,” Sam smiled. “I hadn’t done a whole lot of anything for a long time before we went on the road. Couple years at least. But--”

“That’s not any healthier for you than it is for me,” Steve pointed out, frowning.

“I know,” Sam admitted. “But for a long while it’d probably have done more harm than good for me to try and then it was just a habit to ignore it all. Helping you has gone a long way in helping me too, I think.” Sam shook his head slightly and redirected his thoughts back on topic. “What I was sayin’ though. I don’t really have a whole lot of natural preference for some of the harder stuff. If there’s something you want to try though just ask. We can find our own grove in what we like and we don’t.”

“There is one thing,” Steve hedged.

“Name it,” Sam said easily.

“Think you could kiss me?” Steve asked, somehow both nervous and challenging.

Sam didn’t bother with verbally responding to the request, instead he leaned up onto his elbow and tipped forward just slightly over Steve, leaning in to press his lips softly to Steve’s. He gave in, then, just a little bit, to all of his own want and neediness that he’d suppressed over the past months and kissed Steve like he’d never let himself imagine. Slow and thorough yet somehow intense. Sam checked himself and gently withdrew.

Steve blinked his eyes back open and just stared at Sam wide-eyed for a long moment and then smiled softly, “Didn’t have to stop.”

“I really did,” Sam countered a little breathlessly, his hand coming up again to trace fingertips over Steve’s features. “If I don’t now not sure I’d have stopped at all.”

“I’m good with that,” Steve smirked.

Sam laughed softly and leaned in to steal another short but sweet kiss, “I think we need to raincheck on that for now. C’mon,” Sam said, sitting upright and tugging a reluctant Steve along with him. “Go get yourself a shower and we’ll go get a good breakfast.”

Steve eyed him consideringly for a moment, glancing at the bathroom door and back again, before nervously asking, “Come with me?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Sam agreed after a pause. “Going to let me take care of you properly?”

Steve’s shoulders dropped slightly and he sighed in what Sam thought was relief, smiling softly at Sam, “Yes. Please.”

“You gotta stay with me though, Steve,” Sam urged firmly. “Gotta stay up and level if we’re gonna do this.”

“I know,” Steve agreed though Sam could hear a disappointed note in the words.

“Give yourself some time to level after yesterday. For now, we’re just going to get cleaned up and head out for some food. I know you’ve already worked through what I gave you,” Sam said gently. There was a part of Sam that was still questioning if this was reality or just something his mind was creating, a dream of some sort. That was still weary of acting on his affections. Sam was sure that it would take a while for those parts to finally quiet, that he would probably need as much reassurance as Steve would before he was able to fully accept the change. 

For the moment though, it was easy enough to set those concerns aside to deal with at a later time and lean in for another kiss. It was easy enough to ignore them while he pulled Steve to his feet and relax under Steve’s touch when he asked to undress him. The concerns all but faded to the background of his mind with each piece of clothing that Steve dropped on the floor beside him. By the time he was completely undressed, Sam’s attention was focused entirely on Steve. He let Steve have a moment to look curiously before he inched forward and gently tugged the t-shirt over his head. 

The motel bathroom is still small, still cramped with both of them attempting to crowd inside, the shower even more so and, frankly, the cheap little motel’s water heater sucks. It’s not exactly comfortable and Sam finds himself wishing for a break from their extended road trip if only to be able to actually,  _ properly _ bring Steve this sort of peace in the comforts of his own home for this. But this’ll have to do for now, it was suitable enough to wash off what remained of the previous morning’s mission.

It didn’t hurt that the cramped quarters left them with little option but to stand so close together.

Clean, dried, and redressed, they quickly repack their bags as they did time and time again at different little motels along the way and drop the key off at the desk. Before they climbed into the car, though, Sam stopped in front of him, stepping forward until Steve was backed against the door, hand going around the back of his neck and leaning forward for a kiss. Steve made a small, startled sound but opened without hesitation to Sam’s insistent press. Sam broke away from the kiss as abruptly as he started, feeling awfully smug at the flushed, dazed look he found on Steve’s expression. 

“C’mon, darlin, let’s go get you fed,” Sam said fondly. 

“Ah, yeah, right. Food,” Steve fumbled, shaking his head and then grinning sheepishly. “Then what’s the plan?”

“Going home for a couple days,” Sam answered, stepping back and opening the passenger side car door. When Steve slumped into the seat, brows furrowed in confusion, Sam pushed the door shut firmly and rounded to the other side to climb into the driver’s seat. 

“Going home? Sam, we’ve still got leads to follow,” Steve protested.

“And we will,” Sam nodded as he started the car. “But we both could use a couple of days R&R. Hydra ain’t going anywhere.” Sam paused and shrugged, “And maybe I’m a little selfish, now that I know that I can, I want you to myself for a couple days. That good with you?” Steve stared at him in surprise for a long moment and then nodded slowly in agreement. 

“Good,” Sam grinned. “Now buckle up so we can get some food and get on with it.”

Steve settled into his seat and pulled the belt across, buckling it with a click. Sam watched his hand twitch and then curl in on itself uncertainly. Sam eyed the loose fist for a moment before putting the car into gear and resting his arm onto the center console between them, palm up. Steve sighed shakily and released his fist to lace his fingers with Sam’s. As he merged them onto the highway, Sam raised their linked hands to press a soft kiss to the back of Steve’s before letting their hands settle against his thigh, feeling more contentment at the simple contact than Sam could remember feeling in years. It was a start but a good one.


End file.
